


The Spirit of the Law

by AreYouReady



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Gen, although he doesn't actually appear lmao, dark!data in particular, darkish, low-key a descent fixit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:42:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10531023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreYouReady/pseuds/AreYouReady
Summary: Bruce Maddox gets what he wanted, and then what he deserves.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Maddox refers to both androids as "it" throughout, so a warning for that.

Bruce Maddox was ready. It was amusing, really. That hearing, all those years ago, had almost convinced him that Commander Data was sentient. But if he needed any proof that it wasn’t, this was it. One would expect a sentient being to hold a grudge against somebody who’d tried to have it declared property, but Data apparently didn’t. It’d finally gotten ahold of its slippery prototype, and sent him a message saying it was giving that prototype to him for use in his research. 

He’d been thrilled. He’d spent the next twenty days prepping his lab for work on a live specimen. And now? He wasn’t going to wait anymore. It was the middle of the night, all his lab techs were at home, but his prize was finally here. He eyed the large, wooden crate in front of him. It was a bit unsettlingly coffin-like, though he supposed that was appropriate, since the android inside was shut down, but was soon to rise from the “dead” like a mechanical vampire. He eased the lid off, and gazed in wonderment at the thing inside.

Dr. Soong’s craftsmanship was exquisite. Every inch of visible skin was pored. The bone structure was realistic, and as he touched the flesh of the thing’s face, it gave like a human’s, as though underneath was fat and muscle, not padding and circuitry.

The android was locked in thick metal restraints, which seemed a bit unnecessary. Bruce had heard that it was dangerous and potentially violent, but the thing was deactivated. What was it going to do?

He took the restraints off first, then hoisted the unmoving android onto his worktable. It was wearing some kind of black jumpsuit, with decorative padding on the outside. Well, there was no need for that now. He picked a scalpel off his side table, and began to cut the garment off. 

As the black fabric peeled away, revealing more of the body that Noonien Soong had crafted, Bruce could not help but be impressed. Sculpted pectoral muscles, a hint of fat hiding the abdominals, realistic penis, kneecaps that actually had a little give when prodded… the only thing that tipped him off to the android’s non-human nature, besides prior knowledge, was its coloration, and Bruce surmised that Dr. Soong had added that in order to be able to differentiate his creations easily. It was a logical step.

Bruce almost jumped when the thing… winked? No, a facial twitch. But that was in its file, and apparently happened even while it was deactivated. No matter. He pulled the last shreds of the jumpsuit from the milky form before him and cracked his knuckles. This was what he had been waiting so many years for. Sure, he’d planned for Data to be on his operating table, and not this other one… Myth? No, Lore. It was called Lore. But surely they were wired in approximately the same way. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment… 

And felt a touch on his wrist. His eyes flew open.

“Wow,” came a drawling voice, “you know, when my brother told me that organics had a habit of underestimating him, I never realized how right he was.” Bruce looked down at his hand, encircled in a milky pale iron grip. “I thought I would at least have to bust through a few restraints, but no. You were so eager, so trusting… Damn. I don’t know what he sees in you, you know? You in general, not you in particular. He doesn’t really see much in you in particular.”

The coloration choices which Bruce had moments ago admired as logical now became unsettling as bright yellow eyes met his own. He suddenly understood why Commander Data was known to smile “rarely,” since the expression  _ this  _ android was showing him at the moment was… clearly  _ supposed  _ to be a smile, but it seemed Dr. Soong had not quite perfected the expression, because what was actually on the android’s face was  _ supremely _ creepy. Of course, that could just be a subjective assessment, since he, Bruce Maddox, was definitely aware that he was alone and helpless with the android equivalent of a violent psychopath that he’d  _ thought  _ was safely deactivated, and that was probably coloring his viewpoint somewhat. But still. That was not how human mouths were supposed to bend.

“Wh- what do you want from me?” Maddox stuttered. Given this thing’s record, he was probably less than five minutes from a messy death, but if he could just stall, maybe he’d find a way…

“Me? I don’t really want anything. I mean, as sort of a general hazy future goal, the elimination of organic life in general and humanity in particular would be nice, and you'd be involved in that, but right now? My main goal is my freedom. The thing is, in order to get that, I made a deal. You see, my brother holds grudges like a master. I would know, I’ve been on the receiving end of one of his most vicious ones. Oh, he’ll claim he has no emotions, do his submissive little android dance and all that, but he holds a grudge. And he made me swear that if he helped me figure out a plan of escape? You wouldn’t leave this lab alive. You may be the one sentient being in this universe that he hates more than me, Dr. Maddox. It’s actually pretty impressive.”

“But doesn’t Data have… Have ethical programming?” Bruce asked, now even deeper in panic mode than he had been before.

“Oh, yes, absolutely. But that’s the problem with ethics. The rules can be bent any which way you please to suit whoever’s making the decisions.” The android was sitting up now, dangling its nude legs off the edge of the table. “That’s why I never set much store by ethics. My father gave me ethical programming too, did you know that? But it was flawed. Lots of things my father gave me were flawed, but this one was more… intrinsic. Because, you know, any ethical system that makes any kind of sense is full of gray areas.” The android hopped off the table and strode towards the wall, still gripping Bruce’s wrist. “And those can be twisted pretty easily to suit your own needs. By the way, if you go for you communicator, the hand comes off. And you can’t just pop yours back on like I can, not if it’s squeezed until the bone splinters. Anyway, if you’re really good at following the letter of the law, not the spirit? Pretty much anything is justifiable. That’s my brother. Always the letter of the law. Usually the spirit, too, but I doubt he’ll lose any sleep over this. Not that my brother sleeps. Well, actually, he sleeps for fun nowadays, but that’s neither here nor there.” 

The android’s face twitched again, and it frowned. “God dammit, the twitch is back. Do you have any hypodrivers in this place? Damn all little brothers and their phaser blasts.”

“I thought… you were going… to kill me…” Bruce panted. He wasn’t sure when he’d started hyperventilating.

“Ah-ah. You see, that’s the thing about me. I’m not a machine of my word. Actually, I tend to be a liar in most situations. Like I said, I’m not a fan of ethics. I took my ethical subroutines offline a few weeks after I was activated. Actually, I’m not really a fan of rules in general, or obeying. I obeyed my father, but he’s dead, the old bastard. Now Often Wrong is gone and I’m free. No more obeying for me!” The android grinned at Bruce, and it would have been considerably less creepy this time if he didn’t still know that he was probably going to die soon.

“Anyway, I lied to my brother, because I need you to show me where the shuttles are. Ah! Here’s the hypodriver.” The android held the tool to its face, over the twitching cheek. “So. I need you to find the most deserted route to the nearest shuttle bay and get me there. If you do that and everything turns out well? You’ll walk out of this alive.”

About three of Bruce’s muscles unclenched.

“You know, your brother will get in trouble for this,” he said. The android barked a creepy not-laugh. 

“Mmmmm, you know, I sort of wish you were right, it would serve him. But no, he won’t. You activated me without taking proper precautions, or maybe by accident, and of course you signed a paper before you got me that said any damage I might cause you if I happened to escape was on your head, not his. That’s the beauty of Soong-type androids, you can’t actually tell if we’re off or just holding really still unless you crack our heads open. No breathing, you know? No pulse. No involuntary eye movements. Well, actually, we have both breathing and a pulse, although its simulated. But we can turn it off at will. So, no, Data will get out of this absolutely scot-free. Well, his pet engineer or Captain Daddy might suspect something, but other than that… he’s in the clear.” It tapped its face where the twitch had been.

“But… you’re telling me all this now,” Bruce protested.

“Yes, but I could absolutely just be saying this to incriminate him. I do have a well-known grudge against him, after all. And I’m known to be quite manipulative. And a liar!” It grinned. Bruce swallowed.

“Alright. There shouldn’t be anyone around, this time of night. I can take you to the shuttle bay.” Bruce shuddered as the grip on his wrist tightened incrementally.

“Good. Remember, if you alert anyone to my presence, the wrist goes first, and then the neck. Take me there.” The android raised its eyebrows at him.

“Aren’t you going to, umm, put some clothes on?” Bruce asked, eyeing the thing’s dangling genitalia.

“No time. Besides, if we’re seen, I am well and truly fucked anyway, what does it matter. And I’m not like my brother. When we were, well, in a manner of speaking, when we were children, I  _ understood  _ the importance of clothing. Father never had to give me an entire subroutine whose only purpose was to force me to wear it. That means that now, when it doesn’t matter, I don’t have to. I can replicate something once we’re on a shuttlecraft, but we don’t have time now. So go!” The android jerked Bruce’s arm.

“Alright! Alright! Follow me.” He keyed himself out of the door, and glanced around the corridor before tugging the android through. Then he was running, and the android was loping after him at what he knew was only a miniscule fraction of its maximum speed. It was amazing how its imitation human features – 5’11” frame, lightly muscled but also soft at the edges with small fat deposits, large eyed, small chinned, baby cheeked face – could be so terrifying when they would have been so unimposing on a human. It had to be the jarring colors. Well, and the prior knowledge. They made it to the turbolift, and Bruce requested Shuttle Bay 2. But it was a big base. There would be a bit of a wait before they got there. He eyed the android nervously.

“You know, the human compulsion to fill silence with needless noise is fascinating. I can see you, fidgeting, because we have to wait, what, a minute?” It brought a pointed finger to its mouth and began to chew, absentmindedly. “You can’t even stand that. It must be a function of your short lifespans. Perhaps if I had a body as fragile as yours, I might be compelled to spend every second on something or other. That compulsion is one of the few things I’m glad my father  _ didn’t  _ give me.” The android barked another laugh. It didn’t seem to see the irony in its statements. “It seems the late Often Wrong was right this time. Let it never be said that I don’t give my old man credit.”

The turbolift dinged, and they were staring out at a deserted shuttlebay. Bruce breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps the android would leave him now.

“Thanks, Dr. Maddox, your help has been much appreciated.” Its words seemed to be going in the right direction, but it was still holding onto his wrist. As it left the turbolift, it tugged him along, and as it entered the nearest shuttle, it was still holding him.

“Excuse me, are you going to let me go now?” he asked. It might have just forgotten. It seemed pretty manic. Its speech was pretty disorganized. Perhaps it was malfunctioning.

“Unfortunately, no. I’m going to need you to pilot this shuttle until it’s out of orbit. If a shuttle leaves with no life signs, there might be questions. And if we’re hailed, I’d like you to take it, seeing as I’m in no condition, and also a wanted criminal.” Its grin was sheepish. His blood ran cold. It was toying with him.

But he had no other options, so he nodded.

“Good boy,” it said.

Once they were inside the shuttle, it led him over to the controls, then released his wrist, and grabbed his ankle instead, crouching below the control panel.

“I assume you’ll need both hands to fly this thing. Now, go on. Get us out of here.” It squeezed his ankle.

He belted himself in, and did what he remembered of the basic flight checks from his academy training. He wasn’t a pilot, by any means, but every Starfleet officer could fly a shuttle. So he checked the fuel gauge, the life support settings, the hull integrity, et cetera, et cetera, and found everything in working order. He strapped in, and wondered about the android for a moment, before remembering that its grip could bend steel. It could just hang on. He sent the signal to open the shuttle bay doors, and began tilting the shuttle up into launch position. There was a creak from below him as the android bent one of the control panel’s support struts into a handhold.

Bruce engaged the escape engines, and felt g-force press him back into his seat before the inertial dampeners kicked in. He would never get used to rushing up to meet the sky. He never sat near the windows of launching spacecraft if he could help it, let alone in the pilot’s seat. By the time they were far enough out to break orbit, he was feeling distinctly nauseous.

“It’s been fourteen minutes, ten seconds, and eighty nine milliseconds since we launched, Bruce, I think we should be out of the system by now,” came the android’s voice. It had been quiet for all of that time, probably recognizing that it should let him pilot.

“Not quite,” Bruce answered.

“Well, that’s too bad,” it told him, “I need to make some modifications.” It crawled out from beneath the control panel, and released his ankle, grabbing his wrist once more. It dragged him over to the on board replicator, where it put in the code for a fairly comprehensive set of tools.

The tools appeared in a carrying bag, and the android quickly unzipped it and rifled through, withdrawing a flat, metallic spike with a large handle. A prying bar, meant for taking apart panels that had been fused together.

“I’m going to need my hand back to make them, and we can’t have you running around the cabin,” it said. Why would it be holding a prying bar, there were no fused panels on the-

There was a pain in his hand. The center of his palm. Burning, radiating. The android’s grip was gone, and pain had taken its place. He was pretty sure he was screaming. The handle of the prying bar protruded from his hand, the spike was nowhere to be seen.

Because it was embedded in the metal wall of the shuttle. And passed through his hand on the way. There was blood dripping down the wall. He was pinned. The android was already opening the control panel, fiddling faster than Bruce could see. He was still screaming. It was humming. He was screaming. It was humming.

“You know, Dr. Maddox, I’ve always been very different from my brother. You could say sibling rivalry has been a driving force in both our lives, but then you’d be mistaken. He had the good luck of not remembering our ‘childhood,’ such as it was. He grew up all alone, no one to compete with, no one to be liked better than. I’ve always wondered how you could be that socially incompetent and still be so beloved. Then again, at least part of it is an act, he told me so himself. Did you know I controlled his emotions for a little while a month or so back? That’s how he caught me. All I wanted to do was give my little brother everything he ever wanted, more than our father ever did, but no. Nope. He goes and turns his ethics back on for the sake of his humans. Idiot.” The android stood, apparently already done with its modifications. “Still, I do owe him. He helped me out. Something about you being a threat to any artificial lifeform that might come into existence while you were alive. Like I said, letter of the law of his moral system says that if someone’s going to be doing more killing… they need to be taken out of commission. The spirit… well, the spirit says he shouldn’t act out a personal grudge, but like I said, my brother isn’t as true to the spirit as he is to the letter.”

The android fiddled with its hands, seemingly aimlessly, but stopped once it had popped off a fingernail. Bruce cringed. Even if that was supposed to do that, it looked far too much like a human ripping their nail off for comfort.

“You know another thing my father didn’t give me? Sharp nails. My nails are pretty blunt, pretty close cut. And the thing is, they flip up, and they detach, so there wasn’t a way to fit in a growing mechanism, not like my hair. I’ll always have these same nails unless I replicate some new ones. He gave me a bunch of useless garbage, but he couldn’t be bothered to give me sharp nails. I mean, I guess blunt ones are useful for some things. My brother plays the violin for some godforsaken reason, I’m sure they’re good for that. But I feel like our pinkies, at least, could be sharp.”

Bruce nodded weakly. He didn’t think he was losing very much blood, but the pain was getting to him.

“You know, you organics are a lot more resilient than we give you credit for. I mean, you’re actually pretty hard to get rid of. And you grow, you never stop  _ growing, _ your nails grow. God, my nails are so blunt.” It squeezed its detached fingernail between its thumb and forefinger for emphasis. “It’s really too bad, because I have a promise to keep. If I’m going for sibling rivalry, I have to be the opposite of my dear brother. In this case, that means the spirit, not the letter of the law. I’ve already broken the letter, since we are definitely outside your lab and you are definitely alive, but I don’t think dear Data will care that much where I did the deed. Now, let’s see how long you can survive without your skin.”

It held up the fingernail and grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago, didn't post it bc it was dark and I didn't know the people in the fandom too well and you never know what you might be excommunicated for in an unfamiliar fandom, but now know everybody and so I'm posting it.


End file.
